


The Weaver of Dreams

by orphan_account



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Dubious Consent, First Time, M/M, Power Imbalance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-02
Updated: 2010-05-02
Packaged: 2017-10-09 06:35:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/84116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim dreams of making music after high school, but his boss at his after school job is an irresistible force</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Weaver of Dreams

Tim flips slowly through the 'B's in Dreamweaver Records vinyl collection, while he waits for the customer at the cash register to finish up and leave. He pretends he isn't watching the transaction, but he needs to talk to the store's enigmatic proprietor, and he doesn't have the nerve to do it while other people are around.

With ten mouths to feed, Tim's father has always been insistent that his children find jobs as soon as they are legal to do so. Tim is far down the line, and only three of them are left at home, but the senior Urban saw no reason to alter his policy for his younger children. Tim has been working at McDonald's since the day he turned sixteen, but he's heartily sick of it. He's had enough of puking kids, and testy parents, and smelling like fry grease no matter how many times he's showered. He's put in his year, and now that he's seventeen, he thinks it's time to get a real job. Or at least one that will actually hold his interest. Tim has plans for his life, and those plans involve getting out of town and making music to pay the bills.

Dreamweaver Records is the only music store in town that still actually sells records, vinyl discs from an earlier era. The store offers CDs and DVDs too, but those are mainly to generate a little more cash. The place is a throwback to an earlier era, with its wooden bins and hand-lettered cards to separate the artists. The walls are covered with black light posters for ancient rock bands. Tim knows that the owner holds small concerts for local groups on occasional weekends. The events don't seem to have any set schedule and usually involve music students from the university, although sometimes, local people have been rumored to play. The owner is no college kid though. In some ways, he's as much of a relic as his store, like his fascination with make up and glitter. In others, he's thoroughly in the twenty-first century, not just for the computerized inventory, but because he's quite obviously and thoroughly as gay as anyone ever was.

Tim ignores the fact that the man totally intimidates him, and focuses on the task at hand. He stares blindly at the artwork on Black Sabbath's 'Mob Rules' album while he tries to go over his speech to make sure it's perfect.

"You clearly aren't a paying customer," someone says.

Tim startles and stares up, finding himself face to face with the very man he wants to talk to. Up close, the man is even more impressively tall with startling blue eyes that are incongruous with his dark hair. The contrast is fascinating and Tim gapes.

"Can I help you?" the man asks.

"Uh, yeah . . . I've been here before."

"Do tell." The man looks bored.

Belatedly remembering his manners, Tim sticks out his hand and pastes on his biggest smile. "I'm Tim Urban."

The blue eyes widen and the man takes his hand in a firm grip. Tim's daddy always said to judge a man by his grip, and the owner seems to have a good one. They shake but the man doesn't let go.

"Charmed. Oh, Adam Lambert," he says finally. "Do you always smile like that?"

Tim blushes. People comment on his smile all the time, although he has no idea what's so special about it. His grin seems to attract girls, even though he has no clue what to do with them.

He shrugs, not really knowing how to answer that. "It's just me."

"Okay. Care to explain why you're lurking?"

Clearing his throat, Tim launches into his prepared speech. "I'm looking for a job. I've been working at Mickey D's for a year. I'm a very hard worker and I'm always on time, and I'm never sick. I'm not afraid of gross jobs or anything like that. I'll pretty much do anything."

He's afraid that he's coming off slightly more desperate than he means to, so he shuts up.

Adam arches an eyebrow. "What would you do around here?"

"It doesn't matter . . . sweep the floor, clean up, haul boxes around. After cleaning up the crap in the play tunnels, there's not much that bothers me."

Wincing, Adam makes a face. "Why here?"

"I want to go into music when I'm older. This place is so awesome. I just want to learn as much as I can about things and this seems like a good place for it."

Adam laughs. "How old are you?"

"Just turned seventeen," Tim replies.

"All right, kid. You got the job."

"Yes!" Tim fist-pumps with a cry of delight.

&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt;&lt;

Tim's hours are from the time school gets out until the store closes at eight. He puts an extra lunch in his backpack to eat on his dinner break, and does his homework at the desk in Adam's office when he can steal a few minutes to concentrate. Adam has him doing pretty much everything possible, from cleaning the shelves to putting protective sleeves on the used albums. He learns how to work the cash register and how to log purchases into inventory. The back storeroom has several amps and a sound board, and Tim longs to have a try with them. Adam has declared them off-limits, so Tim is careful not to piss off his boss by touching them. He swallows his impatience, determined to prove to Adam that he can be trusted with the equipment.

Adam continues to fascinate him. Before he became an employee, Tim couldn't have said how a man like him managed to fit himself into their relatively small town. The college brought in lots of free thinkers and intellectuals, but the people from the university aren't the only ones who frequent Dreamweaver.

However, now that he knows the man, Tim is surprised Adam hasn't been made town mayor by acclamation. Even the most wary people fall for his charm, whether it's the church pastors or the PTA president or the shy school girls. Adam has a circle of intimate friends who invariably drop by over the course of the day, just to bask in his energy for a little bit. Adam is very hands-on with all of them, prone to hugs and quick kisses. Tim has never in his life been comfortable enough with anyone to treat them that way. Excepting his mamma, but she hardly counts.

He can't figure out if any of the men are Adam's boyfriend, although there's a delicate small man who always manages to monopolize Adam's attention when he's around. Adam doesn't seem any closer to him than any of the others, though. Sometimes Tim wonders why he even cares about Adam's personal life. He writes it off as curiosity about alternative lifestyles.

On Saturdays, Tim works from ten until four. He knows that the good stuff happens after four, but he hasn't quite gotten his nerve up to stay after his work shift is over. He drops hints that he could work longer hours, which Adam blithely ignores. Even on weeknights, Tim finds excuses to linger after they close up, chatting with his boss. Adam is well-read and knowledgeable about many things, not just the music business. Tim finds himself wanting to spend more and more time with the man, but he doesn't really understand why. Adam should be too old, too adult, and too uncool for a high school student, but Tim doesn't think of him in any sort of category like that. He's Adam, a universe unto himself, and Tim keeps drifting, helpless to stop himself.

On Tim's third Friday, Adam asks, "Can you stay later tomorrow? We're having some folk sets, and I could use the help with the equipment."

Tim can't stop the huge grin that breaks over his face. He's been dying for just such an opportunity. "I'd be happy to," he responds, unable to hide his enthusiasm.

Adam seems a little surprised by Tim's agreement, because he stares at Tim for a few moments before saying, "Cool. Thanks."

Tim can barely contain his excitement as he explains to his parents that he'll be working late the next night, and isn't sure exactly when he'll be home.

"He trusts me," Tim stresses, knowing they aren't exactly happy about him hanging out with the town's token homosexual, although Tim's pretty sure Adam isn't the only one. He figures the odds are against it, plus there's the matter of all of Adam's friends, who, if they aren't gay, might as well be.

"All right, sweetie," his mother says.

"Good work," his daddy adds.

The next day, Tim can't hold his smile back and he's extra friendly with all of the customers. He's so elated that Adam isn't intimidating for once and Tim can't help chattering to his boss about the upcoming evening. Adam treats him like an overly enthusiastic puppy, tolerating his bouncing for most of the day, but finally shooing him to the storeroom to count things.

In exile in the back, Tim tells himself to get a grip. He's glad to be finally getting some insider information about how an actual show goes down, and he's happy that Adam has decided to trust him, but he's going to blow it with his gushing. Adam is older and sophisticated; he won't want someone as silly as Tim around him if Tim continues to behave like this.

After getting himself under control, Tim exits the storeroom to demonstrate his new found maturity to Adam. However, the small man who seems so close to Adam is there, and evidently the two of them are more intimate than Tim realized.

Adam has the man wrapped in his arms, one large hand gripping the hair at the back of the man's head, pulling on it, forcing the man's head back. The smaller man doesn't seem object to the treatment as he curls his arms around Adam's shoulders. He seems entirely willing to be manhandled and his posture suggests an eager surrender.

Tim can't tear his eyes away from the scene, and he can't force his feet to take him back into the store room.

Adam finally breaks the kiss and pulls his mouth away. His eyelids are heavy and his eyes have a sort of heat in them that Tim has never seen before. Tim shakes with a sudden fierce desire to be the recipient of that sort of look.

"Scram, you little minx," Adam says in a voice gone low and rough. "I'll see you later."

The small man flounces towards the door, giving a high-pitched squeak when Adam smacks him sharply on the ass. Tim jerks as though his own body had been hit.

Adam looks up, catching him staring, but Tim can't move, can't look away. He feels like a rabbit under the fearsome gaze of a fox, but even knowing he's doomed, he can't escape.

"Staring?" Adam asks. "Now, youngster, the only question I have . . . is that an appalled look at the gay stare? Or a fascinated I want some of that stare?"

He's been moving closer as he talks, and then he's in Tim's personal space, so much that Tim has to tilt his head back uncomfortably to just to look him in the eyes. He has the odd thought that he's probably not Adam's type since he isn't tiny and cute like the man who just left.

Tim can't get his face to form any sort of expression that's under his control. He has no idea what kind of look he's giving Adam, but the man evidently takes his own reading of Tim's startled features. The next thing Tim knows, Adam moves even closer, and Tim puts his hands out on Adam's chest just to keep himself from falling over.

"I think," Adam says, lowering his head, and touching his lips to Tim's ear. "It's fascination."

Tim struggles for a moment, wondering if Adam had just asked him something, but he goes with the only clear thought that's in his head. "Yes."

Adam laughs, a low sound that somehow sounds menacing. "Oh, pretty boy, I don't think I can resist."

He laces his fingers through Tim's and tugs him towards the back. They get to the office and Adam pushes him inside, locking the door.

"The store . . ." Tim protests.

Adam snorts and keys the security code into the alarm pad. He hasn't let go of Tim, and now he gives a tug on their joined hands, sending Tim stumbling into him. His arms go around Tim, holding him in place against a very male body. A firm hand grips Tim's chin, tilting his face up and then Adam is ravishing his mouth, tongue pushing in so firmly that Tim opens up for it helplessly, not knowing how he can possibly resist.

Lips and tongue work him, long kisses with barely any recovery time in between. Tim's mouth is slick with spit and his lips are swollen. Somehow his hands have landed on Adam's chest again, and the firm muscle under his fingers is the only steady thing in his world.

Hands stroke up and down his back, and then tug the edges of his T-shirt, pulling it up. Adam breaks the kiss as he slides the fabric over Tim's head.

"No," Tim says. "I'm not . . . I mean . . . I never."

"I know, baby," Adam soothes. "It'll be good, I promise. Don't say no."

His shirt is off and thrown away before Tim can respond, and then Adam's hands are back, hot against the skin of his back as Adam presses him close. Tim feels the hard length of Adam's erection inside his jeans and gasps as Adam pushes against him. He can't help the involuntary movement of his body towards that delicious pressure.

"See?" Adam gloats. "You're made for this. I'm going to teach you everything."

His hands move around to the front of Tim's jeans, sly fingers brushing over Tim's hard on before slipping the button loose. Some distant part of Tim's brain tells him that he should be protesting, that he doesn't want to loose his virginity in a ratty office in the back of a secondhand record store. But another part of his brain is telling him that saying 'no' to his boss isn't a very good idea, not if he wants to keep his job. Mostly his body hijacks the whole conversation and wriggles his hips to help Adam slide the denim down his legs.

Adam doesn't stop there, just tucks his long fingers into the waistband of Tim's boxers and gets rid of them too. Before Tim has a chance to be embarrassed or panic anymore than he already is, Adam scoops him close again, nuzzling his neck, licking and biting places that Tim had no idea would be sensitive to this kind of treatment. He makes a humiliating little whimper, and Adam gives another one of those dangerous chuckles.

"Such a good boy," Adam whispers.

Tim really wants to be good for Adam, so he presses closer. The feel of Adam's clothes against his naked skin is irritating and exciting at the same time. He squirms, rubbing himself against the larger man. Adam pulls back slightly and gets rid of his shirt. Tim sighs happily as bare skin and wisps of chest hair scrape against his hairless body. His hips move in some uncontrollable rhythm against Adam's groin, the denim pulling harshly against his tender dick, nearly overloading him with the sensation. He groans as the pleasure gathers at the base of his spine.

"No, no," Adam chides, amusement coloring his voice. "I want you needy and pliable. No going off before I get into you."

Tim's not really sure what he's talking about, but he's not happy when Adam puts space between their bodies. He makes a protesting noise, his body still moving, still blindly seeking the contact that will push him over the edge.

"I know, pretty boy. I'll take care of you, I promise. I'll make it all better."

He steers Tim towards the small couch on the back wall. Firm hands press on Tim's shoulders, and his legs buckle out from under him as Adam helps him kneel on the floor facing the couch. Adam pushes him forwards until Tim's chest is resting on the couch cushion.

"Put your arms under you. Comfy?"

Tim wants to say no, but he's completely tongue-tied, body overwhelmed with lust while his brain is flogging him for getting himself into this position. He's embarrassed to be on his knees, exposing himself to the gaze of his employer. But he finds himself nodding instead of protesting.

Adam runs a warm hand down Tim's spine, leaving a trail of shivers in its wake. The lust that had been slightly banked by his embarrassment comes roaring back and Tim trembles slightly. Adam stops the movement, resting his hand on Tim's ass cheek and then moving both hands to the insides of Tim's thighs pressing them apart. Tim eagerly opens his legs, hoping that Adam will finally have mercy on his aching erection.

"So eager to please," Adam praises. "So good. Just go with it, baby, your body knows what you need."

Tim is soothed by the words, and he wiggles, happy that Adam is satisfied with him. Adam strokes him, warming his skin, starting the tingles going again. From behind, Adam cups his balls, rolling them in his long fingers. Tim jerks, trying to rub himself against the cushion. Adam pulls his hips back though, denying him the touch. Tim moans in frustration, but Adam evidently senses how strung out he's feeling because the next touch is to his hole, fingers slick with lube. Tim flinches, trying to escape the touch as the reality of what he's doing suddenly intrudes.

"No, it's okay, you'll like it."

The finger slides in suddenly, when Tim isn't ready for it. The feeling is odd, but not painful. Tim takes a deep breath. Adam moves his finger around and Tim groans. Suddenly his ass seems to be alive with nerves that are sparking pleasure throughout his body. He pushes back without even thinking about it.

"Perfect boy."

Adam adds another finger. This feels less comfortable, but the pressure still rakes along his nerves making him shudder. Adam works the fingers in and out, pushing against Tim's insides in various ways until Tim feels his body giving way, opening for Adam.

When Adam pulls his fingers out, Tim can't help protesting again. He turns his head to the sight of Adam dropping his jeans and pulling a condom out of his pocket. Tim feels a small measure of relief that Adam is able to think clearly enough to protect them both. Tim takes it as a sign that he's important to Adam.

Rolling the condom on and then digging out a packer of lube, Adam quickly readies himself. He leans down and presses a kiss to the small of Tim's back.

"Can you do what I ask, Tim? You've done so well."

Tim struggles to speak, but finally manages, "Yeah."

"Good."

More pressure then, something big and hard. Tim stiffens in fear.

"Shh, baby. Doing so good." Adam rubs his hand over Tim's hip. "I want you to push back. Bear down like you're trying to push me out."

These instructions make no sense to Tim, but it's Adam, so he does as he's told. His muscles flare open and Adam nudges in. Pain wars with the pleasure and Tim tenses again.

"Hurts," he complains, his voice feeling weak and thready.

"Just keep pushing," Adam orders, continuing to slide in.

Tim tries to get away, but Adam's hands tighten on his hips, pulling Tim back as he surges forward. Tim cries out against the pain that jabs his insides. Adam presses his mouth along Tim's spine, pressing small kisses across his shoulder blades. He doesn't move as Tim pants through the pain.

"So hot," Adam murmurs, his lips tracing the contours of Tim's ear. "Good boy."

The shudders die away as Tim's body finally adjusts to the huge dick that seems to be splitting him open. His erection and excitement have totally faded away, and Tim puts his head down, ready to endure through to the end.

"No, no, none of that." Adam's voice is warm with amusement and what Tim hopes is affection. Adam rubs his hips some more, hands drifting over Tim's back, soothing him. Gradually Tim relaxes. He's still not entirely comfortable; the whole thing feels awkward and horrible, and he's not quite sure why people enjoy this.

"Better?"

Tim nods, his head hunched under his shoulders.

"Okay."

Adam moves inside Tim, who gasps as the feeling of sparks returns. Suddenly things aren't just better, but better than he imagined they could be. Adam takes up a steady rhythm, pumping himself in and out of Tim's body. He feels full instead of painfully stretched, and his erection returns as pleasure surges through him.

With a grunt, Adam drives himself deeply inside Tim, slamming him against the cushions. Tim wishes he could rub himself off on the material, but he's totally not in control of what's happening to his body. Behind him, Adam quivers and jerks, moaning something that might be Tim's name.

Heat sears through Tim as he realizes that Adam is coming in his ass, and he feels powerful for the first time since their encounter started. He tries to help by pushing himself against the other man. Adam's grip on his hips is painfully tight, but that pain is a good counterpoint to the feelings created by the dick that's jammed up inside him.

Adam stops moving finally and rests his head on Tim's back. He can feel the sweat from on the other man's face collecting on his skin. Finally, Adam sighs and pulls himself out. Tim can't move from his position. He doesn't care what he looks like; his body feels abused and sore. He's afraid what else he'll feel if he moves.

After dealing with the condom, Adam sits on the couch, pulling Tim onto his lap. He arranges Tim so that his legs dangle over Adam's thighs, leaving him spread open again and vulnerable. Tim winces at the idea of having Adam's dick inside him again, but Adam doesn't do anything like that. Instead, he strokes Tim's shaft slowly but firmly. Tim gasps and looks up at his boss.

Adam smiles at him, his blue eyes warm with some unknown emotion. Tim's erection rages back and he can't feel embarrassed as he greedily takes all the pleasure Adam offers him. His back arches in the support of Adam's arm as the feeling rushes out of him in one long stream of sensation. Adam holds him through it, mumbling nonsense words in his ear, and planting small kisses on his shoulders.

When it's over, Tim lies in Adam's arms, too drained and overcome to move. Adam wipes his hand off on one of their shirts, but he doesn't stop touching.

Tim finally pulls himself together, and tries to get up but Adam tightens his arms. Tim looks at him, wondering how he's going to continue to work with the man after he's been so intimate with him. He's feeling like he might shatter at any moment, and he just wants to get away and hide out in his room.

"Pretty boy," Adam says, a small hint of tease in his voice.

He dips his head to caress Tim's mouth in a gentle kiss. Tim sighs into the kiss, realizing that he's fast becoming addicted to Adam's touches.

"I think I'll keep you," Adam proclaims. "Can I keep you?"

Tim goes wide-eyed with shock, but then a grin splits his face as a warm feeling of contentment grows inside him with the knowledge that he didn't just give himself away to a man who doesn't value him. He ducks his head so he can curl up against Adam's large frame.

"Yeah."


End file.
